The Things We Leave Behind
by Einsam
Summary: Snape is dying, and the memories of the beautiful things in his life die with him. SS/HG, mature content, DH compliant.


A/N. You never know. Could have happened. Sigh.

I don't make any money from this. First paragraph is a direct quote from Goblet of Fire by J.K Rowling.

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"...He forced Hermione to show Snape her teeth – she was doing her best to hide them with her hands, though this was difficult as they had now grown down past her collar... Snape looked coldly at Hermione, then said, 'I see no difference.' Hermione let out a whimper; her eyes filled with tears, she turned on her heel and ran, ran all the way up the corridor and out of sight."

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The rain had continued without rest for a week, and although he never left the domain of the dungeons, for some reason it made him feel restless. With the wind whistling through the gaps in the stone, he made his way to the tallest tower, overlooking the lake, and it was here he heard the small, shy voice of the Gryffindor hiding in the corner: 'Hello, Professor.'

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'What are you doing here, Professor?'

He debates with himself: Truthful answer or biting retort?

He decides to tell her. 'I come here to be alone.'

She snorts at that.

'What's the joke?' He asks with an acerbic tone.

'Nothing,' she says, staring out across the lake. 'It's just that when I come here I feel less lonely than when I'm with Harry or Ron.'

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Having found her hiding from her friends in an abandoned tower, he found that she intrigued him, and after two years of waiting, watching her grow into a beautiful young woman, he had gained a lot of insight: She liked her tea cold, her food spicy, and when she thought people weren't looking she often slipped a romance novel out of her bag.

He has done his research.

And he is done waiting.

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"I am not a kind man, Miss Granger."

The length of his body is flush with hers, and she's having trouble breathing.

"I have never asked for kindness."

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He pulled away and looked upward, wanting to see her face as she came apart, and his hands were cupping her breasts and sliding down, down her satin skin, into the beautiful cleft of her which warmed and wetted and parted...

And now they're kissing deeply, and she's wrapped her arms tightly around him, locked her legs behind his back and he couldn't pull out if he tried, and she's riding him in a series of waves and strokes that threaten to pull him under...

... But whenever he tried to recall the intimate moments they had together, all he could remember were dark flashes of hair and skin and gasping, greedy mouths struggling toward completion.

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Her screams of passion, they exhilarated him.

Her screams of pain, they destroyed him.

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"Why, Severus!" laughed Dolohov at the next gathering, "I do believe I smell a woman on you!"

The rest of the group starts laughing, and although his face is covered by his mask, an ugly purple flush is creeping down towards his neck.

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...He finally came, spasming and pushing into her so deeply that he felt they were part of the same gasping, moaning creature.

Afterwards he held her, not knowing whether or not to tell her what had happened at the latest meeting, when she knocked the wind out of him.

"I love you, Severus." The hardest thing she'd ever had to say. She eyed him with trepidation.

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He looked at her with surprise, not expecting such a declaration. If anyone were to find out...

It was then he realised what he had to do.

He retrieved his wand from the bedside table, looked deeply into her eyes, and said the hardest thing he would ever have to say:

"Obliviate."

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As the battle raged around them, Harry, Ron and Hermione were crouching around the body of Severus Snape, as he tried to give his memories to the trio.

Hermione couldn't help but feel a deep sense of grief, knowing that he was dying, but was surprised at the intensity. With no time for introspection, she simply watched her former Potions professor die at her feet.

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He was giving it all up, his memories of the brat's mother, their time at school together, what motivated him to join Voldemort and then betray him. He felt his breath being restricted and the pain of the snake's venom subsiding, and knew he was about to die. With one final look at Hermione, the embodiment of all things good, he thought back on their time together, that which she did not remember. He would not give these memories to Potter; no, these memories he would keep.

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A/N Please review!


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